


Shore Leave

by RyeBread



Series: Shore Leave [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (during the day), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Fjord Fucks an Orc and Narrowly Avoids Catching Feelings, M/M, One Night Stand, Public Sex, Rimming, extremely light dom/sub, public fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 17:59:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyeBread/pseuds/RyeBread
Summary: This is a fuck of a lot of words that are housing a very, very self indulgent piece of smut that has very little to do with anything other than my desire for Fjord to meet a true Orc and also fuck him.Set before the event of Sabien’s Betrayal when Fjord was still a relatively fresh sailor in his early twenties. Again, this is mostly just self-indulgent drivel that I hope brings some other deviants some joy.





	Shore Leave

**Author's Note:**

> I should have finished writing NaPNaB, but the horny plot bunnies wouldn’t leave my head so I wrote all of this out in like four hours and I refuse to give it the same editing and attention I give NaPNaB so here we are.
> 
> Warnings for semi-public heavy petting, non-abusive dirty talk, and NSA sex.

It's not Fjord's first time in a relatively new settlement, so he knows not to set his expectations too high when he gets off Vandran's ship in the early hours of the morning. They'd arrived the previous night, been given the option to head out into the town if they so desired, but were warned--unnecessarily so considering the last time they'd done this--that boozing about in a fresh town in the dead of night mightn't be the best idea. So Fjord had slept in the quarters with the rest of the crew, everyone anxious to be off the ship and feel firm ground again. The anticipation had been so powerful, all of them were up and ready before the cook had even come down to ring the breakfast bell.

Fjord doesn't join the rest of the crew immediately after, holding back to take in the sight of the island lit up in red and orange as the sun rises. The sand is dark and wet, leading directly to the recently cleared patch of land with makeshift roads into the least dense bits of forest. With the rapidly heating land dragging in the cool ocean air, Fjord feels compelled to follow it into the town proper. The folk of the island, traders and tradesmen mostly, are already up and about, taking advantage of the light and cool air before it becomes unbearable. The ones working more lazily seem the ones more accustomed to and unbothered by the threat of the rising sun. His fellows have already come and gone, it seems, since few even bother to look his way. Fjord sees the occasional cluster of black booted sailors--his shipmates and those from the smaller vessels docked nearby--stopping by stalls for exotic foods and handicrafts they can keep in their cramped quarters. Most of them have already made for the makeshift taverns. Sometimes Fjord wonders if these communities make more money from trade or the stir-crazy sailors rushing off to drink and fuck. Not that they don't drink and fuck on the ship, but having a private room is a luxury worth its weight in silver.

Fjord is content to wander a bit more, deeper into the village. It's clear the whole place can't be more than a year old; the clay used for foundations still looks bright and fresh, the forest has that semi-unique mix of fresh cut wood and lingering ash from the clear-cutting efforts. Given how dependent these people must be on the influx of traders, Fjord's surprised to find another building set way at the back of the town. The sign waving above the door is sturdy and bright, displaying a flagon of beer overflowing with foam. It doesn't have a name, but—given how deep in town it is—it must be built by and for the locals.

Despite his skittish nature, Fjord's curiosity has always been his saving grace. It got him onto Vandran's ship, and his good graces eventually. So he follows that feeling to the doorway and over the threshold, just to see what it is.

Fjord has to blink a few times to adjust to the relative dark. It's large, larger than he had anticipated from just seeing the front, and busier than he expected given the population of the island and the hour of the day. There are three people sitting at the bar, tended by the stereotypical thick armed and equally thick mustached human. A pair of younger women, with the same thick limbs and rich skin tone as the man behind the bar, walk back and forth from a beaded doorway near the back. They've got clay bowls and flagons balanced carefully as they set out breakfast in front of the various patrons. The tables themselves look very well made, possibly imported given the fine varnish and familiar design from the main continent. Come to think of it now, Fjord notices all the furniture looks imported. At the least it's all personalized. No one table or chair matches the others. It seems the patrons here have all brought their own furnishings to be served at, though only about six of the dozen or so tables have anyone at them.

As he stares, one of the serving women pauses after setting a bowl of thick gray-brown porridge in front of a pair of other women. She turns to face him, hands on her hips. "Don't get many of you this deep in town."

Fjord can't place the accent, though it definitely has a hint of his own Port Domali in there. His ears have picked up some smattering of speech from up and down the Menagerie Coast coming from all about town and he quickly runs through which one he wants to try out; but given the expectant look on the woman's face, he's run out of time to experiment and replies in his typical voice, "Yes, I found myself curious about what sort of mysteries this place was hiding."

She laughs, the intended result, and shakes her head. "No mysteries and not hiding," she says, "just a place for us to have breakfast without you people storming in and looking for a bite, fight, or fuck. Now which of them were you sniffing around for?"

"Oh, ah, none of the above, I'm afraid," Fjord says. "I was just looking."

A voice deeper than any Fjord has ever heard cuts in, "Well you found, so what's next?"

Not for the first time, Fjord is glad he's neither lookout nor navigator when he turns to see a man large enough to match the voice and then some seated on a straining settee in the shadowed corner by the door. Once Fjord's taken in the expanse of the man's shirtless form, the deep green hue of his skin has his gaze immediately snapping to his face. A grin stretched tight against a pair of hefty tusks greet him. Fjord stammers, “Uh, I...”

“I don’t bite,” the man says, heaving himself to the side of his sofa, leaving a very tight space to his left. “I’m not lookin to fight either. Have a seat, it’s been a while since I’ve been back to the coast.”

Fjord looks at the permanently bowed legs and sagging cushion, “I mean no disrespect, but your couch’s seen better days, I fear.”

“Don’t fear nothing, she’s built to last,” the Orc says easily. “Built her myself.”

The woman smirks at him when Fjord starts to look to her for an escape, then bustles over to another table, deeper in the tavern. Fjord’s mouth dries up. “Listen, I’m...”

“I’m looking for news,” the man says, smooth as rubble. His left arm, thicker around than Fjord’s thigh, slings over the back of the settee. “Sit with me a while, regale me with that sweet voice of yours, won’t you?”

Fjord licks his lips, tasting the brine that never really leaves after so long at sea. Curiosity has always been his guide. He moves to take the cramped seat, doing his best to relax against the arm rest despite how the other man doesn’t seem to notice the way his leg presses up against Fjord’s.

“There’s a good man,” the Orc says quietly, or as quietly as he seems capable. “So where’ve you been, sailor?”

“Just passing through the Swavain Islands, doing some trade. The captain wanted to stop off here to refresh some supplies,” Fjord says, keeping his composure despite the sweat building on his forehead and palms. It’s cool in the tavern, but the man next to him gives of heat worse than if Fjord were standing uncovered outside. And the size of him, it’s no wonder. Fjord’s kept his eyes respectfully at the man’s face, if not the eyes, but it’s impossible not to be taken aback by the swell of his muscular gut, the planes of his chest. His hands have got to be twice the size of Fjord’s and Fjord is not a small man. He breathes through his nose in an effort not to pant, which he regrets as soon as he does, breathing in the heady smell of his companion. It sets his head spinning. How can his tongue feel so dry when his mouth is watering? “What about you? What brought you here?”

“Better than how the coast’ll treat you, looking like me,” he says, not quite leering. “Orc without a tribe isn’t safe no matter how big. You’d know that better than most, even looking like you.”

That at least sets Fjord enough on edge to clear his head a minute. “I beg your pardon?”

The man laughs, “You heard me. Look at how you hold yourself, how you talk. You’ve got the blood of my people in you, but you’re not one of us and I bet you’re glad of it.”

Fjord considers trying to stand, but can’t think of a way to wiggle off the sofa with any sort of dignity. “Isn’t that rich,” he snaps, “too Orc for the humans, but too human for the Orc.”

“I’m not the one filing my tusks down,” the Orc says, smirking as best he can with his heavy jaw. “Best you can be is yourself, you’ll learn that the hard way, I bet.”

“I didn’t come here to be condescended to,” Fjord says, irritated enough to discount the weight difference between them as he glares. 

The Orc laughs, a hearty sound the carries from deep in his chest. “No, you came here for the same reason all sailors come by here.”

“And why’s that?” Fjord asks, once again off balance by the mood shift.

The man leans down and into Fjord’s already limited space. Their faces are practically pressed together despite Fjord leaning back as far as he can. The Orc’s massive hand lights gently on Fjord’s knee, encompassing it a quarter of the way up his thigh. He whispers gutterally, “You’re fucking horny.”

Fjord’s half convinced his tongue’s shriveled away with how quickly all moisture leaves it. The feeling of being completely overshadowed physically is not one he is accustomed to, but it is one he is taking a particular interest in all of a sudden. “I don’t know about that,” he starts.

“Don’t bullshit me,” the Orc says. “I saw your eyes near burst out your head when you got a good look at me. Maybe you’re a little too human, but I know a way to get more Orc in you.”

Fjord tries to think of something adequately clever to match what’s being thrown his way, but his brain’s been fried since the heat of the man’s palm soaked through his pants. He swallows hard.

“Would you like that?” The man, and gods does Fjord need to get his name or something, asks huskily.

“Y-yessir,” Fjord manages. 

The man laughs sharply, warm breath against Fjord’s face, “None of that sir shit.” His brow scrunches in thought for a second, “Unless that’s what you’re into. Tell me that, _boy_. Is that what you’re into?”

“What else should I call you?” Fjord asks.

“Well you sure as shit don’t want my name like you’re sending letters to me after,” he says, derisive. “Call me Rej.”

“Rej,” Fjord says, getting his bearings. “Well, Rej, are we going to do this here or have you got a place to go?”

“Eager,” Rej says, but his tone is light, damn near cheerful. Then he pulls away. “Unfortunately, I’m still thirsty. Oy, Rhea!”

The woman who Fjord had been talking with earlier turns, gives a knowing nod their way, and turns back to the table of men she’d been talking with previously. Fjord takes a minute to check the other patrons and locals. None of them seem to be paying them any attention, or even acknowledging their presence in any way. “They know better than to be looking my way when I’ve got a pretty little thing in my lap,” Rej says.

“I’m not in your lap,” Fjord points out. 

“Would you like to be?”

Fjord blushes, gritting his teeth in embarrassment, but looks away rather than answer truthfully. “I’m too big to be sitting in anyone’s lap.”

“Too big or too grown?” Rej asks, moving his right arm over Fjord’s shoulders. “Because you’re neither, I assure you.” He reaches with his right for the flagon Rhea brings over, having to use both her hands to accommodate the weight. Rej nods at her in thanks, but Rhea just winks at Fjord and struts off. 

“I’m bigger than everyone else in this place,” Fjord says, confident that it’s mostly true. 

Rej takes a loud sip from his drink, smacking his lips. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“Which was?”

“Do you want to be in my lap?”

Fjord starts to answer, but Rej quirks an eyebrow over the edge of his oversized cup. His snappish response dies and, after another quick glance to be sure none of his crew mates stumbled in, he nods.

“Was that so bad?” Rej’s hand pinches his waist lightly and he quirks his right leg out. “Here, hop on. Be a good little sailor for me.”

It takes some maneuvering, which Fjord struggles to do as Rej watches neutrally, taking shallows swallows the whole time. Eventually, Fjord is straddling Rej’s packed thigh, facing him and braced by a massive palm at the small of his back. He’s struggling to keep his breathing even, both at the proximity and the idea that anyone might be watching him acting like some simpering whore, like the men and women his shipmates were likely courting this very minute by the docks. 

Rej sets his flagon on the wide rest of his sofa, turning his attention back to Fjord. “Now what am I gonna do with you?”

“What do you generally do when you’ve got someone in your lap?” Fjord asks wryly. 

“Hm, well I like to know what I’m working with,” he muses, his fingers dipping into his cup and stirring absently. “Open that mouth up for me.”

Fjord leans back, “Isn’t there a saying about gift horses?”

“Oh, you’re not a gift,” Rej says, still swirling his fingers in his flagon. “You’re a prize and I’m working for you. Open.”

Fjord obediently, If begrudgingly, opens his mouth enough for Rej to see the flattened nubs of his tusks. He’s not sure what he expects Rej to do, but it isn’t for him to poke into his mouth with a dripping index finger. He bites down out of reflex before he can relax, but Rej doesn’t seem to mind much as he runs the pad of his finger against the rough nub of tooth. The alcohol burns against Fjord’s tongue. 

“Hm, these’d be respectable chompers if you’d let em grow out,” Rej says easily, like he doesn’t have a finger crammed in another man’s mouth on a couch in a semi-public tavern. He draws his finger back out, dips it back in his drink, then runs it along Fjord’s lower lip. “Most sailors I met, their lips get chapped. Yours are nice and soft.”

Fjord can’t answer very well, given the circumstances, but he hums and lets the finger run against the tip of his tongue, sucks on it gently as Rej pulls it back out. He can feel his cock straining against the rough cloth of his trousers, knows Rej has to feel it against his leg and just doesn’t care. He groans when Rej traces a damp finger from just beneath his ear and along his jaw to under his chin, tilting his head up. 

“I’m going to kiss you,” Rej says, asking permission despite it being a statement. When Fjord doesn’t... well Fjord isn’t sure what his options are other than to throw himself to the floor, but he doesn’t do that and leans in toward Rej when the man presses his face in to Fjord’s. A thick tongue laps against Fjord’s lips, which Fjord welcomes. He starts to turn his head, to deepen the kiss, and knocks his nose against the protruding tusk. Rej throws his head back, roaring with laughter. “That’s not how Orcs kiss, sailor. Hold still, mouth open a bit—there’s a good man—stick your tongue out a bit there.”

Fjord’s experience with kissing is already fairly limited, but it’s never been anything like this. Tongues press against each other, against lips, their noses brush. They share breath, though Fjord’s is significantly shorter. He feels Rej’s hand slide up his waist, shoving his shirt up to feel its way up his back while rocking him closer. Fjord moans as he grinds his dick against Rej’s thigh. “Please,” he says.

Rej pushes his lips to Fjord’s, encompassing and soft. Fjord realizes he’s shut his eyes when they snap open at the feeling of being lifted up. Rej chuckles, “Just getting a feel in.” Fjord starts to question what he means when he feels the back of his breeches tugged down. They catch on the curve of his ass. “You best loosen these up if you don’t want me tearing them off you,” Rej warns.

The thought of being stripped publicly is, admittedly, darkly appealing. Walking back to the ship without his pants on is less so. Fjord quickly tugs the knots loose at the front. As he does, Rej puts his finger back at Fjord’s mouth. He sucks on the thick digit while Rej uses his free hand to tug his breeches beneath his ass. He hopes that Rej actually meant it when he said the patrons of this place knew better than to look over at him. A warm palm envelops his left cheek, giving it a light squeeze. The finger leaves his mouth.

“Give me a feel,” Rej says, taking his left hand off Fjord’s behind and slinging it over the back of the settee. He slides his leg apart, showcasing the hefty bulge. Rej’s now soaked finger finds itself into the cleft of Fjord’s ass. Fjord reaches for the straining knot keeping Rej’s pants closed. With three tugs on the strings, the flaps come apart and the largest dick Fjord has ever seen—and he has admittedly seen quite a few given the close quarters of the ship—is freed. No underclothes, it hangs heavily between Rej’s legs atop a pair of balls the size of hen eggs. The finger between his ass presses against his hole and they both groan. “You’re hot as hell back there,” Rej whispers.

Fjord takes Rej in his hand, feeling the heat of him, the smoothness of the skin over the hardness beneath. He runs his hand over it, over the prominent vein, up to the head. The finger at his hole presses firmly against it, not enough to breach, but insistent. Fjord rolls his hips just to get some relief against his cock. “Can we- somewhere else?”

“You want me to take you home, stretch out that hole of yours til it can take me?” Rej asks, practically at his ear. His tongue licks from the junction of neck and shoulder to Fjord’s jaw. He bites back a groan. Rej shifts, then Fjord yelps as his pants are yanked back up, tugging at his crotch sharply. With a grunt, Rej stuffs his cock back into his pants, loosely tying himself back up while Fjord gets his wits back about him. Then he helps again when Rej unceremoniously stands, tossing Fjord over his shoulder. “Rhea! You can look again. Im taking this one upstairs.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Rhea says. When Rej passes her on his way to the beaded curtain, Fjord sees her mouth “Good luck” to him. He covers his face with both hands so he doesn’t have to see who else is watching him be carried off. He’s not complaining about the way being carried has his dick rubbing against the soft-firm meat of Rej’s chest, though.

Rhea’s words finally penetrate Fjord’s sex-fogged brain when Rej clears the kitchen to a hidden set of stairs. “Boss?”

“I founded this place,” Rej says, like it should be obvious. “My island, my tavern.”

“That why you can fuck people in front of everyone?”

“They don’t like it,” Rej says, huffing as he steps into a room at the top of the stairs, “they can find another island. And for the record- that wasn’t a fuck.”

Fjord swallows hard as he’s pluck off Rej’s shoulders and set onto his feet. He looks about, taking in the room proper. It’s sparsely decorated, little more than a bed, desk, and a heavy looking chest. He shores his confidence as he rises up on his toes and puts his hands on Rej’s shoulders, “You planning on showing me a fuck now, or should I find another island?”

“Eager for someone wet behind the ears,” Rej says, but picks Fjord back up, letting him hook his boots around his waist. 

“Only because you licked there,” Fjord bluffs. 

Rej laughs, kisses him again, and walks to the bed. He kneels, dipping Fjord onto the mattress. “Sure,” he says. “Get naked, then, if you’re so experienced.”

Fjord shucks his shirt and drops it off the side of the bed. Rej watches him hungrily, kicking his own shoes off before taking one of Fjord’s boots in his hand and pulling it free, the doing the same to the other. Fjord pulls the strings even looser and makes to lift his hips, then pitches backward when Rej yanks then off him from the cuffs. “Easy!”

“I’m just as fucking horny as you, so let’s get this show on the road,” Rej says, rolling the breeches into a ball and tossing them by Fjord’s shirt. “Gonna take forever to loosen you up.”

Fjord blushes, but embarrassment is overtaken by lust near instantly when Rej crawls over top of him. His gut hangs against Fjord’s belly and legs, the press warm skin and light scratch of hair driving him crazy. His massive hands feel up and down Fjord’s body, massaging and pinching. Fjord’s legs are straining around the girth of Rej’s thighs. He loses track of time giving as good as he gets, touching and rubbing and tasting the salty, earthy skin. 

Rej reaches up and past Fjord, the movement forcing him up the mattress. He roots around with one hand while the other pushes down on Fjord’s chest for balance. Fjord draws shallow breaths, pushing back limply with both hands against the wrist pinning him down. “Hush up a second, I’m not gonna crush you,” Rej says dismissively, still looking through the drawer before cursing softly and slamming it shut to check the drawer beneath it. “I know it’s around here somewhere. The fucking thing was- ah! Here we are.”

It looks like an alchemist’s jar, only much larger; stoppered glass with a viscous liquid inside. “Uh?”

“Never seen olive oil before?” Rej asks. “Good stuff. Slick, smells nice. Edible.”

Fjord watches as Rej pulls the cork out with his front teeth. He pours out a thin stream onto Fjord’s chest and, by extension, the hand pressing down on it. Rej sets the bottle on the end table, then spreads the oil across Fjord’s chest and stomach. “Does this stuff uh, wash out?”

“Sort of,” Rej says, leaning back into his haunches. “You won’t give a shit in a minute.”

“I do need to-ah,” Fjord cuts off his complaint with a half-pained cry when Rej drags his oiled fingers over his nipples, pressing in hard enough to leave pale marks across his flushed skin. 

“I said to give me a minute to make you stop bitching,” Rej says roughly. He pulls his hands down from Fjord’s chest, along his ribs to the junction of hip and thigh. One hand takes Fjord’s leg under the knee and lifts. The other wraps around his length, squelching a bit with oil as he slicks up Fjord’s dick. Fjord clutched the mattress at the feeling, digging his fingers in tight. His hips try to buck as Rej strokes him. His entire cock fits well within his palm, but he’s too far gone to feel even a little inadequate. 

“Fuck,” Fjord mumbles.

“We’ll get there,” Rej says. He paws at Fjord’s sack, then under it. He slicks up Fjord’s taint, then back to his hole. “Let me know if it hurts.”

Fjord nods vigorously as he feels Rej’s finger pad pushing inward. The oil smoothed the way a bit, enough that it feels less like an intrusion and more like a relief when it slips inside. Just inside him, the finger rubs against the soft, smooth muscle there. Fjord moans perhaps too loudly. 

“Gods, you’re fucking tight,” Rej grunts. He pulls his finger out, scooping up the pooled oil from between Fjord’s chest and smears it against his hole. “You’re lucky I’m a patient man, willing to work you open like this. Lucky you make such pretty noise while I do it.”

Fjord doesn’t have a response to that other than to moan the way Rej likes so much. It’s strange, feeling his finger inside him. He’s never had that kind of pressure, from those angles. Rej works his finger deeper, to the second knuckle, and Fjord digs his heel into Rej’s chest. He shakes his head when Rej looks at his face questioningly. Rej starts to pull out when Fjord clarifies, “It’s fine.” It really doesn’t _hurt_ , but he clenches hard again when Rej pushes inside further.

“Relax,” Rej says, his free hand stroking Fjord’s thigh. “I’m not looking to tear you in half on my cock, but I’m _going_ to get it in there. Push back on me when I press in.”

Fjord nods, breathing deep when Rej strokes out and then back in. He gasps when the finger pushes past that muscle there. His stomach clenches at the feeling of Rej pumping his finger gently. “That’s, ah, that’s bizarre.”

“Not wet-behind-the-ears, huh?” Rej laughs. “Wait til I get another in there. Wait til I’ve got my big dick in there.”

“I don’t,” Fjord starts to say, but Rej pulls out then all the way back in with his finger. “Fuck!”

“You might not have fucked before today,” Rej says, “but you sure as hell will now. Don’t worry, I won’t let you get bored.”

Fjord rocks with the slow fingering, feeling the pressure building in his balls with the ministrations against his insides. Rej reaches around his leg to palm Fjord’s dick as he pumps into him insistently. Fjord just closes his eyes moaning as he feels an orgasm build. When one rolls through him, it’s almost a surprise. 

“Fuck,” Rej says, “we’re taking a break.”

“Huh?” Fjord says, still boneless and twitching. 

“I’ve got to taste you,” Rej says, sliding down the bed, kneeling at the foot of it. “Here, try my handy work.” 

Fjord starts when Rej puts a finger to his lips, his own spend on the tips. He licks experimentally. It’s, well, cum. He’s tried it before, but Rej pushes his face to Fjord’s stomach and laps at him, humming in pleasure, and sends Fjord newly off the bed when he licks his softening length to clean it off him. “Ah, Rej, hurts!”

“Sensitive,” Rej chides, his finger still fully sheathed inside Fjord. “Hope you’re good for a couple rounds, this is just step one in getting you fuckable.”

“I thought you said we were taking a break,” Fjord says, breathless. 

Rej mulls it over in his head a moment. “Yeah. Alright. Up, let me get on here,” he says, removes himself from Fjord and maneuvers them so that Fjord’s laying on top of his stomach and chest. “How about you get down there, return the favor a little.”

Fjord would currently be more happy to rest for another few minutes as the sweat cools on his skin, but that wouldn’t exactly be fair. He slides down Rej’s body, kissing the firmness of his chest, then the softness of his belly. He feels the hot press of Rej’s cock against his stomach. Fjord’s thankful the bed is large enough that he can kneel between Rej’s legs without having to try to keep his balance, though he does wonder how a bed this size got through the door in the first place. Did they just build the walls around it?

Rej clears his throat pointedly. Fjord flushes and puts a tentative hand on the fat shaft of the cock in front of him. He’d felt it downstairs, but now he has the privileged position of seeing Rej shudder with the stroke. It takes two hands for him to properly stroke him off, working them in tandem, seeing and feeling the slide and bunching of soft skin around the swollen crown. And those balls. They’re huge, the pair of them in the heavy sack at the base. He keeps pace with one hand and palms Rej’s balls with the other, curious but cautious. He rumbles out from the headboard, “You like playing with them?”

“Yes,” Fjord says, figuring honesty is the best policy here. 

“Give em a kiss.”

Fjord looks up at Rej, who smirks around the tusks, “Kiss them like an Orc kisses.”

Fjord nods, then pushes Rej’s cock up and against his stomach, rubbing it gently as he leans down and puts his lips against the lightly wrinkled skin at the base. He lets his tongue slip out and run along it. He tastes salt and oil and musky skin, the earthy scent of the oil filling his nose along side the heady smell rolling off of Rej’s body. If he thought he could manage it without an extremely unfortunate accident, he would try to take one into his mouth. As it is, he licks and sucks his way along both. Rej’s cock throbs as he does and he hears the sound of Rej’s low moans and the flexing of his fingers against cloth. 

“Get up here,” Rej says. Fjord starts to climb back up, but Rej holds up a hand, then twirls his finger in a circle. “Ah ah, head down there. I’m still enjoying that.”

Fjord’s confused for a moment before the realization hits him and his soft cock twitches in valiant interest. It’s an awkward shuffle, made possible by Rej grabbing his legs and tucking them under his arms. Fjord can feel Rej press his thumb against his hole, stretching it, then his other thumb prying him apart, pinching at his ass as he spreads him. 

“That’s a nice hole you’ve got here, sailor,” Rej mutters. Fjord debates the proper response, discarding “Thank you,” as too formal, but unable to come up with a suitably sexy retort before something hot and wet and _prehensile_ is pressing into him. His thoughts burn out as he feels the pleased hum _inside him_. Rej’s tongue slides in further, until Fjord can feel the hard press of his tusks against his ass. He braces himself on Rej’s thighs, kissing at the dick standing straight up in front of his face. Rej is relentless, alternating shoving into him with his thick tongue and licking leisurely across his hole. Fjord tried to keep up, stroking and kissing and sucking, but the addition of prodding fingers and the low burning stretch as their combined efforts loosen him up has him panting helplessly between Rej’s solid thighs. It’s all he can do to keep his eyes focused with the rough motions of Rej’s ministrations rocking him bodily forward, his dick dragging against the slick valley of Rej’s chest. His guilt at hanging on for the ride is somewhat assuaged by the regular throbbing of Rej’s dick and the thick stream of clear precum running down his length that Fjord tries to lap up in appreciation. 

“I’m gonna cum again,” Fjord says, half in warning, half in surprise. He didn’t think this could feel so good. 

“If you cum again, I’m never getting in you,” Rej says, a hint of disappointment in his voice as he pulls out. “Here’ you’re loose enough if we go slow.”

When Rej releases his legs, Fjord goes to great pains to void accidentally kicking him in the face. When he’s chest-to-chest with him, his confidence flags. “You’re ah, you’re sure about this?”

“Don’t want to play now that it’s your time to shine?” Rej asks, running a hand down Fjord’s back. It’s not disappointed or angry. Well, maybe a little disappointed. “You want to rub me off with your body instead? Get down there and show me how much you like my cock with your hands and mouth and that chest of yours? Once you’re done I’ll bring you back up here, eat that hole til you go blind?”

“That’s not what you want,” Fjord says, cautious. 

“Sailor, I could eat you out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner with a few snacks in between. You want me to fuck you so hard you can’t talk, I would do that in a second. You want to keep your ass in one piece and stroke me off, fine. You want to walk out of here right now, I’ll watch that tight ass go and jack off to the taste of it and we never need to see each other again. Which do you want?”

Fjord freezes for a moment. “We could... we could try the ah, fuck-me-mute option?”

Rej smiles broadly. “I guarantee you’re gonna feel like I’m in you up to your throat.”

Fjord gulps, but lets Rej guide him into a sitting position on the swell of his gut. A careful hand has him up on his knees and leaning slightly forward while Rej guides his cock to his hole. Fjord feels the hot, wet tip of it. At Rej’s instruction, he starts to lower himself. The first small bit of it slides in, the there’s a moment of resistance as he struggles to relax. The shape of it nudges into him, pushing against him. The pressure isn’t terrible. It’s almost pleasurable, just tight. Fjord screws his eyes shut while he hears Rej whispering something just not the words. He shifts downward again, making Rej gasp. Then the cock slides in several inches at once, spearing Fjord with the slicked up length. Gods it’s thick, filling in a way that the tongue and fingers weren’t. He can feel the contours of the cock inside him, the way it twitches and throbs. He breathes shallowly. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s strange and it’s full. He lifts up a bit, then down. Rej has his hands on Fjord’s hips, not pulling him down; if anything he’s holding him up. 

“Not a race,” Rej bites out, and his thighs flex with the Herculean effort of not thrusting upward. 

Fjord nods, but lets himself slide down a bit. It stretches and pushes in and there’s a slight pinch, which hurts, but then he feels Rej’s cock knock against something deep inside. It hurts, but it’s a slow, almost warning hurt. He stops his movement, forcing himself to take deeper, even breaths. Back up, then down slowly. It feels a bit like when Rej was first fingering him, something tight in him that’s able to loosen up if he just goes slow, stays relaxed, and fights through it. Rej keeps up the litany of encouraging sounds, rubbing his sides, his chest, his legs. With another deep breath, he exhales as he lowers himself again. This time Rej’s cock bumps the thing inside him and pushes up. Fjord’s stomach cramps a bit, but he forces his body to just push on with it. The cock slides in and Fjord feels Rej’s balls shoved against his ass. His eyes fly open, he pants hard. It feels good, it feels really good. Part of him wonders how much is actual physical pleasure and how much is the mental victory at having managed the task, but that’s very much overshadowed by the rush of pleasure he feels from the massive dick pushing against his insides. The smooth glide up then back down is encouraging. 

“Get down here,” Rej says, cutting through the haze of pleasure and relief. “Lay down, come on, you did the hard part.”

Fjord, cock still fully sheathed in him, gently lowers himself down until his head is pressed to Rej’s chest. They lie like that for a moment, Fjord clenching against the dick that shows no signs of losing interest. Rej presses his mouth to the crown of Fjord’s head while his hands run down to Fjord’s ass. Rej gives the cheeks a cursory squeeze, then starts to rock his hips. It’s almost like being on the ocean again, if the ocean stuffed his ass full of cock as it softly rocked him up and down. So nothing like the ocean really. Fjord bites down on his lip, then at Rej’s encouragement bites at his chest. The pace picks up, Rej grunting and rocking and thrusting while Fjord scrabbles against him. Something inside him sends waves of heat through him with the thrusts, something that makes his mouth go slack and his eyes squeeze shut. He feels Rej’s balls slapping against his ass with each rough thrust. Rej’s movements get more wildly deliberate, pistoning so that only his cock head stay inside Fjord before the entire length shoves back in. Fjord’s body lights up, making him cry out with pleasure and his cock twitch without spending. Each thrust is like an aftershock until Rej shoves himself all the way in one last time before pulling all the way out. He slides his wet cock against Fjord’s hole, holding Fjord’s ass tight against it before he groans. Fjord feels the hot mess splatter along his back. He collapses against Rej.

Rej laughs, “Oh, we’re not done.” 

Fjord looks up dumbly, “What?”

“You can still talk, can’t you?” Rej asks, then rolls them over, Fjord now on his back, legs straining against Rej’s waist. “I don’t go soft right away. I’ll take care of you.”

Fjord doesn’t know if he wants to protest, to say that he thinks he already came somehow, but then Rej’s slick and messy cock is back at his hole and he just doesn’t care. Rej’s thrusts are quick and shallow, barely breaching a few inches into him, but smashing against the spot in him that nearly brought him over the edge before. His nerves are alight to the point that it almost hurts. Fjord lacks the capacity to feel embarrassed, but he can hear himself practically mewling until Rej’s tongue fills his mouth. He scratches at Rej’s back, locks his legs, and lets himself get fucked deep into the mattress. When orgasm finally re-emerges, it’s a relief. He spends himself again between their stomachs. 

Rej pulls out, then lowers himself gently across Fjord, not quite crushing, but nearly. For what it’s worth, Fjord thinks it’s actually strangely comforting. The sweat cools their skin, and after several minutes they’re both shifting a little uncomfortably until Rej peels himself off Fjord and rolls off the bed to his feet. “Phew. That as good for you as it was for me?”

“You came once,” Fjord points out. “I came twice.”

“Three times,” Rej corrects. “I know what that cute little squeal means. How’d it feel coming dry?”

“Pretty good,” Fjord says, laying spread eagle as Rej walks to the back of the room and through a beaded curtain. He’s lost in empty thought for a while, long enough that he should probably be concerned, until he hears Rej grunt and strain, then the sound of scraping. When Rej emerges, he’s dragging a large wooden basin with a pair of clay jugs in it. He’s damp, looks like he might have even given himself a quick shave, too. Fjord looks at him, eyebrow raised. 

“Can’t say Rej doesn’t take care of his patrons,” Rej says, taking the jugs out of the basin. “Get in.”

“What?”

“Unless you want to go back to your ship reeking of sex and olives?”

Fjord hesitates a moment, then rolls off the bed and walks to the tub, stepping into it. He reaches for the water jug, but Rej swats his hand away. 

“Sit,” Rej commands. 

Fjord lets himself be bathed, Rej dumping the water from the jug over his head and along his body. From a small drawer built into the base, Rej retrieves a slightly worn bar of soap and a rough rag. It’s not the nicest or most relaxing bath he’s ever had, but it gets the oil and cum off him at least. Rej scrubs at his back and his stomach, squeezing the rag out into the basin before dumping more water over his head. “Thanks,” Fjord says, blowing water out of his face, but he’s sincere. 

“What sort of innkeeper would I be if I let my customers leave looking like that? People would think I was running a whore house.”

“I’m not a whore,” Fjord says, fighting a pout.

“Course you’re not,” Rej says, still washing him down with the rag. He wipes the cloth over Fjord’s dick, making him twitch, then drops the cloth into the basin. As he reaches down to retrieve it, he pauses, then cups Fjord’s dick, thick fingers reaching down to feel at his hole. “Never met a whore this tight.”

“Ah,” Fjord moans, still sensitive, “stop.”

“You’re sure?” Rej asks. His fingers don’t breach him, but they rub at his entrance. “Bet we could make you a proper whore, just need to stretch this out a bit.”

Fjord grips the edge of the tub, biting his lip against a moan. He pushes back on the fingers, spreading his thighs. 

“There we go,” Rej says, dipping his finger inside. “Think we could get a fourth out of you? Has it been long enough?”

Fjord gasps, “Never tried.”

“Can’t get this tub any dirtier,” Rej muses, sticking two fingers just inside Fjord. He’s more pliable than he’s ever been after that fuck, and Rej finds the places in him that make him all but scream out. His right hand pinches at the hard nubs of Fjord’s nipples, flicking and rubbing at them. Fjord takes his cock in his hand and tries to match the pace of the fingers inside him until he loses himself and jerks himself over the edge. “Look at that,” Rej says, washing his hands with the rag and soap before soaping Fjord down again. “If you ever get tired of this sailing business, we could get you stretched and proper on my island. People’d come from far and wide to get at you. Pay handsomely for you.”

Fjord lays bonelessly as Rej regales him with the dirty deeds he could accomplish, cleaning him up as he does so. Eventually Fjord gets his senses about him and stands. Rej dries him off with a rough towel and helps him step out of the tub. Fjord falters, catching his balance against Rej’s solid form. “Thank you.”

“Pleasure was all mine,” Rej says. They dress in relative silence, Fjord checking himself over to make sure his clothes are in order and he doesn’t look too much worse of the wear. He’s certain he’ll have a bit of a limp or stutter in his step for a time, but it’s not like he’ll be alone there. “Get back to your ship, Sailor.”

“Yeah, we’re leaving at sundown,” Fjord says, not regretfully. Certainly not. 

“I didn’t expect anything but,” Rej says holding the door open. “Though I might’ve hoped for another meal out of you.”

“I... might be back, some time,” Fjord stammers, but Rej laughs. 

“I’m not looking for a boat-bound boyfriend, or a boyfriend at all, Sailor. Keep your promises to someone you can keep them to and someone who wants them. It was fun and I’ll be beating my meat to you for the next few weeks, but don’t pretend it’s more special than it is.”

“Right,” Fjord says, making his way through the curtain. His walk through the tavern is mercifully devoid of stares, though that’s likely due to the fact that it seems to have emptied out in the time since he joined Rej upstairs. When he does make it back to the ship, his stomach is growling, and he’s glad to have made it back in time for lunch, made all the better by the influx of fresh supplies. He gets a few looks for choosing to spend the day on the ship, but few care enough to ask, and nobody pries when he brushes them off. It was fun, it was memorable, but like Rej said, it was nothing special.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my smut, have a nice day.
> 
> EDIT:  
> As requested: Comparison of Fjord to this Orc [ "here"](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/446056982613590026/532643249362567168/57afcf6fb56598b11f7b666d0f07d666.png) with some smut [ "here"](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/481057550771421186/540721536676397076/image0.jpg) and [ "here"](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/481057550771421186/541390145291812874/adbd6dfd81ecacee75e22d11e70070d1.png). I decided against hair for the smutty pictures, and please let me know if they don't work. Normally I would upload them to tumblr, but YA KNOW.


End file.
